Oddly enough, I’m raising a couple of perfectionist kids. Weird, I know. Homework assignments are started and restarted, eraser dust piling up on the floor like peanut shells at a dive bar. Artwork crumpled up and tearfully tossed towards the trash can. Other activities never even attempted for fear of sucking.
My go-to phrases in these situations sound like this:
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Nobody expects you to be perfect.”
“One of the best parts of being a kid is that you get to be a beginner. It’s okay to try something and decide you don’t like it or aren’t great at it. Right now it’s your job to get out in the world and figure out what you like to do.”
And then it hit me: why on earth does this wisdom only apply to kids? Why can’t I try something new? Enjoy being a beginner? Why don’t I give myself the same compassion I’m imploring my kids to give themselves?
So off I go – to write and shoot (photos, not bunnies) and blog and just try stuff. I’m a beginner and that’s ok.